


beware the water

by tagteamme



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Car Sex, Feeding, I'm not an edgelord I swear, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Non-Graphic Violence, mentions of self-mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tagteamme/pseuds/tagteamme
Summary: Keith has a hunger Shiro's never seen before. It’s one that never ceases to amaze him. Even now, Keith's entire being is infallible, incapable of accepting defeat as an answer. He crackles like a live wire, has a fire to him that burns fierce and a will to go with it.  Even now, five years of hunting and countless horrors later, Keith still has the constitution of a lion.It’s probably why he’s taking so well to getting turned.





	beware the water

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this in a fever haze yesterday as a way to de-stress and indulge my 2007-2013 self. I originally posted part of this as a prompt fill on tumblr, and I had a few ideas for it since then, so here's a vaguely threaded together Vampire AU

**i.**

 

 

There's a rush one feels when their world tilts off axis. Everything seems surreal; reality has bent itself so much that whatever happened couldn't possibly be true. Keith can't accept what's happening because it feels like he's not conscious.

Teeth sink into his neck, and he can feel the venom seep through his blood and into his very being.

No end-of-life montage starts playing. Neither heaven nor hell crack open the door for Keith. He sees no reaper. It makes sense, because he's not really dying even though for all intents and purposes, he _is_ getting killed.

It's stupid that it got this far, but with the life he leads, it was bound to happen. Keith got outsmarted for the first time in his life, got kidnapped, and now he's paying the price. The creature  that has Keith was once a beautiful woman living an intelligent life that in the end, dealt her shitty cards. It's now a leathery thing with white hair and skin that's almost purple, corrupted with darkness drawn from the very core of the devil itself. It digs its claws further into Keith's skin as it takes equal time feeding Keith and turning him.

He now knows why there's no cure for someone before they turn; the dark magic shoots through him like an electric current that jolts him through his core. He feels it wrap around his heart, constricting it, squeezing wizened fingers around it  till Keith's heart stops in the corner of a rotting stall in an abandoned barn.

There’s a loud _KRRRRRRRACK_  and the door of the stall flies off its hinges. Shiro barrels in with righteous rage and a hunting rifle filled with silver. Keith's thrown bodily to the corner as the vampire they've been tracking for a week cackles and launches at Shiro. Shiro’s capable, more than Keith’s been during this trip, and it doesn't take long before its head hits the ground with a muted thud.

Shiro pulls Keith out of the stall and through the barn, and Keith doesn't want to accept the fact that his skin is already healing over the bite. He doesn't want to accept the fact that he can feel the chill that's started to emanate from his body in contrast to the solid warmth of Shiro, who has Keith's arm slung around him even though Keith's regained his strength and more. He lets Shiro lead him to the car and deposit him in the passenger seat, and doesn’t react at the force with which Shiro slams the door shut.

The barn burns behind them, the flames steadily licking up the walls. It didn't take much; Shiro barely had to do anything beyond drop a lighter on the mouldy floorboards. In half an hour, he'll call it in to the local fire department. Keith stares over his shoulder at the golden glow as Shiro guns it down the long flat stretch of road. He can't bring himself to accept that he had gotten bitten by a vampire in an abandoned farm in the middle of Bumfuck, Iowa.

He doesn't think Shiro accepts it either because Shiro talks like nothing happened the entire ride back to the motel. He shoots shit about driving to Wisconsin after to take care of a vicious banshee, and Keith nods along in a haze. The only indicator that Shiro's vaguely acknowledging something is up is when they're at their cheap motel and Shiro insists he showers first instead of with Keith. It's fine for Keith, because he sits on his bed and stares at his hands and wonders if they're growing paler or if it's a trick of the cheap incandescent lighting. When it's his turn, Keith stands under a steaming spray and feels nothing.

He towels off and catches a glimpse of the fogged up mirror. There is no terror when he wipes away the moisture. Instead, there's a yawning sense of apprehension like he's stuck in a lucid dream but isn't able to wake himself up yet.

 _A dream_ , Keith stares wide eyed at the blank glass staring back. _Tomorrow I'll wake up and it'll be fine._

And it is. For a moment. When he stirs as Shiro shifts off the bed hours later, Keith feels normal for the briefest second and thinks it's a dream. Stupidly, he lets himself feel some relief.

Until Shiro starts tugging open the thick blue motel curtains to let the sun in and Keith starts _howling_ as his skin starts to sizzle. Shiro immediately yanks the curtains shut and rushes to the bed, pulling apart the blankets to see where Keith's skin has grown an infuriating red, where it’s started to blister.

It's not that it's the worst pain Keith's ever felt. It's that the excruciation is punctuated boldly by the realization that it's not a dream. Keith, as it stands, is no longer human. By default, he's no longer a hunter.

Shiro stares down at him, wide-eyed and Keith takes it in pieces. Shiro, strong and sure and handsome no matter how much life has thrown them around. Shiro, kneeling over Keith, faded quilt bunched in one hand, looking like his world's burst like a balloon into a million pieces. Shiro, who lives by the code as strictly as Keith does. Stricter, even.

“I turned,” Keith gasps, less out of need for air and more out of the overwhelming panic that’s flooding through his system. “Shiro, I turned—”

Shiro's gone. He disappears quickly, and Keith hears him rummaging. Keith no longer has a heartbeat, but enough fear pounds through him to make up for it.

They've made a pact for if one of them turns into anything. It's death, at each other's hands before anyone else's. No need for ceremony, no need to make things harder. It's merciful to die at the hands of a lover instead of screaming their name as a stranger casually checks you off their list.

It's a stupid pact, Keith thinks, then immediately pushes out of his brain as Shiro's shadow approaches him. Keith sees the sureness on Shiro's face and feels his heart sink. He should be expecting it, but it doesn't make it any better. Neither of them are one for a show. Keith follows the code. Shiro follows it just as strictly.

There's a serrated hunting knife in Shiro's hand, red glow of the alarm clock defining its face.

(Stricter, even.)

Keith scrunches his eyes shut and thinks of Shiro leaning over him as they're laid out on a blanket in a field. Golden grass surrounds them, the dirt under the cloth is uneven and the sky's a bright baby blue behind Shiro's grinning face and this memory's from a lifetime ago, maybe not even this one, and it's one Keith's held on to in hopes of having a chance of experiencing. As if being that young and carefree and naive about the world is something they can be again.

“I love you,” he whispers and hopes Shiro's listening. “I love you so much Shiro, I'll always love you, even after I die I'll love you–”

“Keith,” Shiro's voice comes out commanding, with only the slightest tremor. Keith shuts up automatically, but it takes him less than a second to break. The blisters on his skin sting more, his head pounds so hard it feels like it's on the verge of splitting open.

“Shiro,” He doesn't disguise the sob in his voice. He wants to curl up, cover his face with his hands, wants to run, wants to do everything but die but he knows that he's got to stay still, wait for Shiro to do the job, wait for Shiro to execute him mercifully, wait for Shiro to—

A large warm hand covers his mouth. Keith inhales in sharp surprise, and his nose immediately fills with the scent of iron. His eyes shoot open, and Shiro has the same determined expression he had before.

“Drink,” Shiro says. “It should help.”

It takes a second for Keith to realize what Shiro's talking about. The palm pressing against his lips is wet and when he opens his mouth, his eyes nearly roll back at the taste of Shiro's blood. He doesn't ask; Keith just starts to take, starts sucking and flattening his tongue against rough skin. It's animal, but Shiro encourages him quietly. Keith feels his skin start to knit back together, feels his sores close and new skin form over. The bed sheets no longer feel like sandpaper on a wound, and Keith sinks further into the shitty mattress. Shiro clambers over him and straddles him, keeping his hand over Keith's mouth the entire time.

The weight is comforting and familiar but Keith feels like he's shifting through a dream again. Shiro's broken the code, broken their agreement and Keith can't fathom it. If their positions were switched, Keith knows he would not kill Shiro, but Keith has always kept it a secret and attributed it to a weakness he will never overcome.

“We'll be fine,” The tremor is more obvious in Shiro's voice now. “Nothing's gonna happen to you, baby.”

Shiro removes his hand and replaces it with his mouth. He doesn't care that Keith's got his blood all over his lips. Shiro kisses Keith with ferocity and Keith keens and wraps his arms and legs around him. What happens after that is more of the familiar urgency that normally accompanies a difficult hunt with a hard fought end.

However, Shiro doesn't turn Keith over and pin him down by his head while he fucks him in a delayed adrenaline rush. Instead, he keeps Keith on his back and drapes over him, moving in Keith with his entire body flush against him. He tells Keith it was never in Shiro's actual plan to ever kill Keith. Keith breaks down and tells him the same.

It's all-encompassing and protective, and Keith allows himself to believe that they might find a way out of this.

 

 

**ii.**

 

 

An omnipresent force can strike it down in stone that they aren’t meant to be together. Shiro will still find and fight for Keith and Keith will find and fight for him. He's known this from before he could even articulate it, when Keith was just a cadet three years below him, determined to prove himself to the entire Garrison but mostly to Shiro, who took an interest to him almost immediately.

He's known this from when a demon took his arm, but not much more because Keith burst through the doors of the vacant lab where Shiro had been lured into and had trapped it, torturing it with old soft Latin that rolled off his tongue like a familiar lullaby. He coerced it into giving Shiro his arm back, sewing it together with dark magic, before the demon burst through its trap. Keith executed it quickly and coldly, with a holy knife straight to its head.

He had hauled a dazed Shiro up and out of the lab, towards his barracks. Keith washed the blood off the gash across Shiro's face with a shirt and a bottle of water, before telling Shiro that he had to go, he had to escape because the demon had occupied the body of a popular instructor who'd been murdered on the surveillance camera by Keith. His parents were well versed in the art of killing creatures and being on the run, he had explained to Shiro. He knew how to handle himself, and he'd find a way to contact Shiro once he crossed the midwest.

Shiro, who had spent months convincing himself that Keith could only see him as a good friend and mentor, told Keith he would help him, that he'd drive him out a bit before Keith started hacking across the country on his own. No one would find the body till midday rounds, especially since said instructor was technically on leave for two more days, and it would give time for Shiro and Keith to sneak off Garrison grounds.

Shiro had driven three hundred miles out in his car with Keith biting his nails in the front seat before he realized he had no intentions of turning back. He had left behind his status as a star pilot, his dreams of going into space, his stellar reputation for a friend who had saved his life.

He had discovered two things by the time they landed up in a seedy motel, the first of what would be hundreds.

First, that Keith's parents were a type of people that were hunters. They sought out creatures of the night that reigned terror and took them out quickly and efficiently. Keith had tried to remove himself from that life, joined the Garrison for a sense of purpose and normalcy, but the life had caught up to him. It always does. The few years of mundane life at the Garrison had been some of Keith’s best.

Second, Shiro discovered that Keith had not expected Shiro to follow him. He had shook Shiro by the shoulders, had asked him if he knew what he was doing, if he knew what he was leaving behind. Adrenaline still drumming through his entire body, Shiro had grabbed him and kissed him before immediately pushing back in horror, scared he had overstepped. Keith looked like his world had been shaken to its core, but rallied and yanked Shiro back in to reciprocate.

After that, the only option Keith had left was to take up his parent’s mantle. It was all he knew, and once the Garrison released the footage to the public, it would be all Keith would be able to do with his life. Keith taught Shiro the code, the life, and Shiro took to it like a duck to water. They've been able to carve out an ever-shifting place for themselves in the world. This too, is something they’ll overcome.

They have each other, above all.

 

 

**iii.**

 

 

It was bound to happen eventually.

A group of hunters have decided Shiro has let Keith live for way too long. It's dangerous and Shiro's too blind to make the right decision so they're going to do them a favour and make the decision for him. That's what they say anyways, when they corner the two of them at a 24/7 diner off the road an hour out of Dayton.

The restaurant goes quiet at the confrontation. Ten minutes ago, Shiro had been telling Keith that there was no possible way Keith could down the diner's Sunday grease special, even in his current state. Six minutes ago, someone tapped Shiro on the shoulder, and when he looked up, the table was surrounded by a man that kind of looked like wolverine and a few of his cronies. Five minutes ago, they told Shiro he has five minutes to leave the diner if he doesn’t want to watch.

The waitress stands petrified by the counter, and the other customers watch, intrigued. Judging by the fact that some of them are decked in predictable plaid and leather, Keith's sure that the goons at their table aren't the only one out for Keith's head. Keith recognizes the man threatening him; he specializes in taking out werewolves despite being suspiciously hairy enough to be one himself. He's not a friend, has never been, and Keith curses whatever entity has caused their paths to cross.

“You don't want to do this,” Keith keeps his voice light. In his head, he's already recounted the exits in the diner and which ones are covered by people that may be hunters. The answer is all of them, and they're completely screwed.

“I absolutely fucking do,” Sendak drawls, and launches.

Keith gets a brunt of the attention, because these men like to talk with fists before they ever do anything productive. Shiro pulls out a gun and then a gun’s drawn on him and Keith sees him pretend to surrender before he takes the other person by surprise and pistol-whips them. Someone else clocks Shiro on the back of his head, but Shiro's a bull and grabs a chair to break over their body. Keith gets punched straight in the face but he counters it with an elbow in the eye, less showy but infinitely more painful.

It devolves into an all-out brawl, and it doesn't end well for Shiro or Keith. Keith watches in horror as Shiro gets thrown over the counter of the diner, and the fraction of a second he allows it to distract him stretches into something more and Keith finds himself pinned on a cracking table under the weight of Sendak. There's a knife at his throat, and Sendak grins.

“No more speeches,” He says, pressing the blade in. “Sorry sweetheart.”

“Do what you want,” Keith grits out. “Kill me. I'll break every seal of hell just to rise up and kick your ass again.”

Sendak's grin falters only a little, but it's enough. Keith's about to use his weight to throw Sendak off, even if it'll earn him a nick on the neck in collateral.

A _click_ interrupts his train of thought, and surprise takes up Sendak’s face.

“Let him go,” a woman's voice commands from beside Sendak. “Now.”

There's a gun pressed against Sendak’s temple. His eyes dart to the side, but Sendak remains steady. The blade shifts slightly against Keith's neck, enough that a hard and sudden drag will finish the job.

Whoever is standing behind doesn't give him the chance, and the loud _pop_ of the bullet echoes through the entire diner. Sendak slumps and falls off to the side, and Keith immediately shoots up to come face to face with a dark woman with a shock of white hair and bright pink tattoos. She looks young, younger than Keith maybe, but her presence is overwhelming.. Two men, one big and one lanky, are holding up Shiro by his arms. They look less like they're supporting him and more like they're restraining him.

“We should talk,” She says, less of a suggestion and more of a command. Keith wants to break, collect Shiro, and run. But Sendak’s body lays heavy and lifeless at his feet, and people are scrambling out of the diner in fear. Someone’s probably calling the police from under the counter, and Keith doubts he’ll get very far.

“Who are you?” He asks, and she grins.

 

 

**iv.**

 

 

Keith has a hunger Shiro's never seen before. It’s one that never ceases to amaze him. Even now, Keith's entire being is infallible, incapable of accepting defeat as an answer. He crackles like a live wire, has a fire to him that burns fierce and a will to go with it.  Even now, five years of hunting and countless horrors later, Keith still has the constitution of a lion. It’s probably why he’s taking so well to getting turned.

The vampire Shiro killed, the one who turned Keith, had been a special brand of cruel. Keith wonders out loud if its hereditary, if he too will end up being a vampire that kills more for fun and suffering than to actually eat. Shiro assures him that he won’t. Shiro will protect him if he does.  
  
For all intents and purposes, Keith should be a target. They live by a code, and the code states that as soon as anyone gets turned into something that’s not human, turned into something that needs to attack humans to live, they’ve got to go. Keith falls squarely into both those categories now, and he’s told Shiro that if he turns into something dark beyond his control, Shiro’s got permission to do what he needs to do. At any given time, Keith tells him, he has permission to do what he needs to do.  
  
And Shiro does what he needs to. But it’s not running a knife through his partner’s neck. It's not a stake through Keith's chest and it's not a silver bullet.

It’s tying Keith’s hands behind his back with a discarded black shirt and making him ride Shiro in the back of their black Mustang.  
  
It’s rough and Keith’s cold and it’s so, so good that Shiro thinks that there might be something wrong with him as well. There’s something nebulous about the way Keith heals now, giving him more strength before and a better tolerance. Shiro thrusts up hard, and Keith slumps forward, burying his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck. Shiro feels the sharp inhale Keith takes, feels the slightest skim of teeth, and weaves fingers through his hair, yanking his head back.

The code means nothing. Their pact means nothing. The engraved rings they each hang on a chain around their neck— those are the only things that matter.  
  
“Not till I say so,” Shiro’s voice is rough, but it’s not angry. Keith nods, and grinds down on Shiro to prove that he gets it.  “Good boy.”  
  
Keith preens at that, and Shiro rewards him with an open kiss. Their tongues slick against each other, and Keith muffles Shiro’s name into his mouth. It sounds wet and broken and it squeezes its fingers around Shiro’s heart. He bucks up again and that deepens the kiss.  
  
“How’s it,” Keith pants in between moving their lips together. “How’s it for you?”  
  
“It’s good baby,” Shiro manages, and slides his hand down from Keith’s hair to the nape of his neck. He squeezes gently, and his free hand goes onto Keith’s hip. Keith rolls while Shiro guides him, firmly, steadily. “You’re so good. So good to me.”  
  
And Keith is. After everything falls apart, it’s Keith, Keith, _Keith._

It's been three months now. Many of their acquaintances have asked when Shiro’s going to take care of business. They ask when he will get their affairs in order. When he will do the right thing before someone finally gets fed up of waiting and decide to carry the job out themselves. None of them have heard about the witch who shot the person who tried, mostly because Allura has tracked down and wiped clean many memories. None of them know yet that a ragtag group of hunters and powerful witches have offered Shiro and Keith protection in return for their strength and cunning and intelligence.

None of them understand that Shiro will break Death’s hands if it tries to lay them on Keith.  
  
“More,” Keith looks wrecked, in a better way than he has for the past few weeks. “Shiro, please–”  
  
Shiro speeds up, moving hard while bringing Keith down on him. He lets out a groan, and angles Keith the way he knows he likes. Keith’s body is shaking underneath his hands, and Shiro knows it’s almost time. He bounces Keith a little more, draws out a few more moans from him before he decides to take some mercy on Keith.  
  
He lets go of him and grasps blindly around the small space left on the seat. His fingers brush across a familiar switchblade, and he flips it open. Keith’s eyes gleam dark in the moonlight, and he wets his lips and slows down.  
  
“Keep going,” Shiro commands, because he needs something to distract him. Keith obeys, bringing himself down on Shiro with as much energy and power as he can muster. Shiro has to scrunch his eyes shut and choke out a moan, and will himself not to finish yet. It’s going to be much more satisfying to collect his reward after he does this.  
  
Keith rides Shiro, and Shiro closes his human hand around the fire-sterilized blade. He takes a deep breath in and yanks the blade, letting out a sharp grunt. It’s not the first time he’s done this, but the first time he’s done it during sex.

It does do a lot to ease the pain.  
  
“Will you be good for me?” Shiro asks, and Keith nods furiously, his mouth hanging open and nostrils flaring at the faint smell of blood. Shiro reaches up and presses his hand against Keith’s mouth, and Keith stutters. Shiro feels the rub of a heavy tongue against his palm; Keith closes his eyes and moans so beautifully that it reverberates through Shiro’s bones. Shiro doesn’t have to tell him to keep moving.

Keith lifts himself from his own volition, and brings himself down so hard on Shiro that he sees stars. The pain in his hand goes away surprisingly fast as Keith feeds, and Keith’s pulling out all the stops when it comes to working Shiro through it.  
  
Keith alternates between licking and suctioning, barely holding onto his control. But Shiro trusts him, just like Keith trusts Shiro enough to tie him up in a small space and fuck him till he’s senseless. Shiro’s getting close, and his fingers squeeze around Keith’s cheeks, encouraging him to feed more. He can feel the vitality running through Keith, can feel it in the way Keith grows more frantic in his movements, the way Keith sings against his palm.  
  
Shiro comes hard, harder than he has in a while and shifts his focus on finishing Keith because Keith’s good, he’s so good, better than Shiro ever thought he would get. He says so much out loud, and Keith finally falls forward, giving up whatever control he had left over his body.  
  
The car is filled with the sound of Shiro trying to catch his breath, and Keith pretending he needs to. A small pang of worry rings through Shiro like a tiny, clear bell. He doesn’t know if he should have liked the whole thing as much as he did. But Keith looks up at him, eyes vulnerable, hair rucked, mouth smeared with Shiro’s blood, and the thought extinguishes quickly.

Keith slowly crawls up Shiro's body so that he can collect a kiss from Shiro. Shiro tastes the sharpness of his own blood, the vitality that he lends Keith; he's never once regretted his choice to not honour their pact by letting Keith live.

It didn't take long for the community at large to find out Keith turned. It's the downside to being excellent at what they do. Foolishly they thought they could hide it, but Allura had missed a person in her and Lance’s little memory-wipe field trip. It didn't take long for them to get sussed out, but Keith and Shiro have earned enough respect and fear for their names for no one to get in their business.

Yet.

For good measure, Shiro had tracked down the hunter who squealed and repaid him for putting a slow burning death warrant on their heads. The incident with Sendak was contained, but there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way for long. It'll be another week or two till the body's found, drained of blood, and by then it'll be too gone for anyone to properly guess what happened.  
  
Keith’s changed, so it’s natural that Shiro’s going to change as well.

 

**v.**

 

 

The moon hangs large and heavy and beautiful behind Shiro’s head. Stars stretch out, twinkling and inviting. Keith can’t pay attention to it, because Shiro’s hovering above him, resting on his forearms as they make out. They’re on the flat roof of a school that had been gutted out by a fire, but it might as well be a golden field for all Keith’s concerned. In this moment, nothing matters more than the love he has for the man on top of him or the love he gets in return. He’s focused in on the soft, gentle kisses Shiro presses against him, and the world’s long fallen apart around them.

Allura, Pidge, Lance and Hunk have set up camp in the kindergarten room of the building, directly under where Keith and Shiro are currently stargazing. They’re going to be undetected for three full days, the first real vacation Keith’s had in years. They have research to conduct, people to hunt down, and Pidge has heard that her brother’s been picked up by a pack of werewolves but has yet to turn. They’re busy, but they’re without having to look over their shoulders for three days. Allura and Lance are proud of how strong their combined magic is, and they should be.

Shiro starts to kiss his neck and travel down, biting gently at the dip of his collarbone. It’s a sticky sweet moment, one Keith didn’t think he would be able to experience. He wonders if it’s a dream, but his world seems to be spinning alright for a change.

“Shiro,” Keith says gently, pressing a palm against Shiro’s chest. Shiro doesn’t stop kissing him, and Keith makes no further effort. He lets Shiro push his shirt up, lets Shiro continue attacking him with a wet trail of kisses against cold skin. There’s a rumor that vampires can’t love, that they can’t feel anything beyond the need to feed. Everytime he touches Shiro, Keith wonders if he actually ever turned or if he’s just trapped within a sick joke of a curse.

“Shiro,” Keith tries again. He’s long concluded that the rumor is fake. “I have to ask you something.”

Keith’s not one for mulling over things once they cross his mind. Not with Shiro anyways. He’s never felt the need to be reticent with Shiro, not in the Garrison, not on the run, not on the rooftop of a rundown elementary school.  So when Shiro finally raises his head with a “Yeah?”, Keith is quick to steel himself and speak.

“Allura showed me how to change someone,” Keith says. “It’s really easy.”

“Yeah, you bite them,” Shiro pinches his brows together, and Keith shakes his head. “Not too hard.”

“That doesn’t always take,” He says. “Sometimes it just kills.”

He feels Shiro’s body go rigid against his, before he hauls back up to look Keith in the eyes. He doesn’t have to speak, because Keith had felt the same dread he can see on Shiro’s face when Allura and Pidge had given him that kernel of information. Keith’s lucky to have turned instead of died. It’s one of the many things he has to count his minimal blessings for.

“You have to conduct a ritual before you bite,” Keith soldiers on before he loses steam. “It’s short, and it doesn’t take long for the person to turn.”

Keith’s about to explain further, explain what goes into the ritual and what it’ll feel like, but Shiro cuts him off.

“Alright,” Shiro says simply. “I’ll do it.”

Keith frowns, because he has a whole speech ready to convince Shiro. He’s poured over it for weeks, beating himself up for being selfish enough to want to pull Shiro into this just like he pulled him into the life. He’s readied himself for Shiro to say no, at the very least because he likes being a reliable source of blood for Keith. But vampires live longer, are faster, stronger, heal better. Keith wants that for Shiro, because Shiro deserves protection and Keith’s terrified of being alone.

“Think about it,” He tries but Shiro gives him a fierce look.

“I have,” Shiro says with immeasurable firmness. “Since you turned. The answer is yes, Keith. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

With no other words, Shiro resumes his path down Keith’s chest, nipping harder. It makes sense to Keith that Shiro has been thinking about this for a while now. He doesn’t know why he questioned it in the first place. Moment of weakness and self-doubt maybe. It’s not surprising that Shiro’s ready to change his very being for Keith.

They are, after all, all in.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Deftones song of the same name.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://phaltu.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/tagteamme)!!


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